


superpowerful

by SeventhStrife



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Best Friend's Brother AU, Bisexual Desmond Miles, Bisexual Ezio Auditore da Firenze, Don't copy to another site, Flirting, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, M/M, Partially Rated For Altair's Language, Petruccio Is The Cutest, Protective Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad, Self-Esteem Issues, Surprise Kissing, it's desmond of course there's gonna be SOME angst, no beta we go to turbo hell like men, shameless flirting, tags added with each chapter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-29
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-15 18:29:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29068830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SeventhStrife/pseuds/SeventhStrife
Summary: When Altair's baby brother comes to visit, Ezio's summer suddenly gets a lot more interesting. The trick to dating Desmond, however, seems to be surviving Altair and the increasingly creative threats he's willing to make good on to protect Desmond's virtue.Good thing Ezio's never been one to back down from a challenge.
Relationships: Ezio Auditore da Firenze/Desmond Miles
Comments: 42
Kudos: 136
Collections: How Dare You Tell Me I Can't Ship These Two?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by [Assassin_J](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Assassin_J/pseuds/Assassin_J) in the [HowDareYouTellMeICantShipTheseTwo](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/HowDareYouTellMeICantShipTheseTwo) collection. 



> **Prompt:**
> 
> Ezio and Altaïr are close buddies. Altaïr often talks about his couple-years-younger brother, Desmond, who is away at college.
> 
> When Desmond and Ezio finally meet one day, Ezio is *floored* because he never imagined Desmond being so friggin HOT.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This might be one of more fluffier pieces I've done in some time??? But obviously it's not _completely_ angst free, because where's the fun in that??? (ʃƪ¬‿¬)

Ezio barged into Altair's office without bothering to knock. He laughed at the way Altair flinched from the light the open door flooded the room with.

"Come now, even vampires must eat." Ezio hoisted up the plastic bags in his hands, the insides already beaded with condensation, and placed them on Altair's desk. "I brought curry."

Altair blinked a few times, adjusting to the light, but didn't protest when Ezio strode to the far wall and opened the blinds. While he frowned at the intrusion of light in his dark domain, he was pacified by food. By the time Ezio had illuminated the room to his liking, Altair had already dug through the various plastic and styrofoam containers and started eating. However, he apparently drew the line at sitting like a normal person, because he ate in the same position Ezio had seen him in since he first walked in: legs up in his chair, hunched over his desk like a gargoyle—although he'd pushed his laptop a safe distance away from the food; he would never risk so much as a crumb on his precious prized possession.

Ezio took the chair on the other side of the desk and tugged the spare container Altair had graciously left for him close with an appreciative inhale.

"Eating like that will give you indigestion," Ezio pointed out as he tore open the plastic sleeve on his fork.

"Bite me," Altair said between a large mouthful of rice, and Ezio grinned.

People tended to find Altair— _abrupt_ was putting it nicely; _a rude asshole_ would probably be the consensus, but Ezio liked him. Aside from the fact that the security software that he created was top of the line, he was the rare sort who heard Ezio's family name and didn't immediately become a money-hungry, simpering mess. Altair judged you as you were, for better or worse. That kind of frankness was refreshing.

They'd met when Ezio had been charged with outsourcing the encryption software for his father's banking firm, and while the work bored him to _tears,_ he never was one to half-ass his responsibilities. Altair's company was little-known, but his work was of unquestionable quality. A single face-to-face meeting with the surly, headstrong man had convinced Ezio he was just as good as any of his competitors, but Ezio found he could stomach talking business with Altair far easier than anyone else he'd met with. Ezio had won Altair's friendship through sheer stubbornness and food, and he'd never regretted it. Besides, Ezio's life could be rather exciting at times, and Altair had proven to be indispensable in a fight. 

It hadn't been long into their friendship that Ezio had learned of Altair's tendency to make a cave of his office and lose countless hours to his laptop screen—food or sleep be damned. It was why Ezio had no problem dropping by on his lunch break to make a pest of himself. Agitating Altair never stopped being fun and it came with the added bonus of giving him an excuse to leave his own office for an hour or two.

Ezio caught Altair up with his day, but Altair's responses were terser than usual. More than once, Ezio caught him glancing at the time on his phone.

"Are you expecting a call or something?" Ezio asked, gesturing with a jerk of his chin.

The question made Altair glance at him quickly, mute surprise in his hazel eyes. 

"Yes," he said slowly, and he reached up and threw back the hood of his jacket; there was probably a dress code he should be following, but as the owner of the small company, Altair rarely felt compelled to follow it. "My brother, Desmond, is staying with me during his summer break. He should be here soon."

Ezio perked with interest. He'd heard of this 'Desmond' in passing a few times, and while Altair was naturally reticent, there was no hiding the warmth and fondness that slipped into his eyes when he spoke of his little brother—the only family he had. 

_Must be a cute kid._ He'd have to be, to put an expression of such softness on _Altair's_ face of all people.

"I look forward to meeting him," Ezio said sincerely, wiping his face with a paper napkin. His stomach was so full of rice he felt fit to burst. 

Altair didn't respond, which wasn't unusual; he wasn't one for bothering with social conventions, including reciprocating small talk, but there was something contemplative about his silence and the furrow of his brow as he looked out the window that made Ezio take notice.

"Penny for your thoughts?" Ezio asked, leaning back in his seat and crossing his arms behind his head.

Altair's mouth twisted, and for a moment Ezio thought he would dismiss it. Then Altair's shoulders fell slightly and he threw his fork into his container in a motion of restrained frustration. He sat back in his seat as well and his fingers tapped out an impatient, agitated beat on the arm of his chair.

"I'm worried about him," Altair confessed. He glared out the window. "Desmond...he just got out of a...bad relationship." Altair's eyes narrowed in quiet fury; Ezio was a little surprised the blinds didn't catch fire. "Fucker cheated on him."

Ezio winced. _Poor kid._

"I beat the shit out of the guy," Altair said bluntly, but there was no relish in his voice. If anything, he sounded as if he regretted not doing _more._ "But Desmond—he's sensitive, always has been. He takes these things to heart and he— _carries_ it for so long." Altair sighed and ran a hand through his unkempt brown hair. "I just—I hope some time away will help. I hate that I can't do anything."

"He'll be fine," Ezio reassured. He'd never seen Altair this worked up over something and it was pretty moving, he had to admit. He knew Altair was a good person, but he rarely allowed himself to be this open or unsure. It reminded Ezio why he'd reached out when they first met, determined to end the day as friends rather than business acquaintances. "How can he not, when he has such a good older brother looking out for him?" At Altair's glance, he smiled. "He's very lucky to have you."

"Hm." Altair glanced back at his phone, swiped at it aimlessly. "Thanks. But I'm the lucky one," he said, a much smaller, but nonetheless visible smile quirking his lips.

Ezio's brows flew up and he smothered the urge to grin; who would have guessed Altair would secretly be such a _mama bear?_

Ezio smoothly moved the conversation to more neutral topics, namely work, and it helped lessen the tense line of Altair's shoulders—although he never stopped checking his phone as the minutes passed. 

He'd been in the middle of telling Altair what he thought was a _very_ engaging story about the fight he and Federico had gotten into at a club last weekend when Altair's phone went off with a shrill alert. Altair perked immediately and Ezio found himself quite forgotten as Altair uncurled from his perch and strode to the door of his office. He stood there, foot tapping anxiously and eyes narrowed as he gazed, presumably, to the front of his shop and where the main doors waited. Unseen, Ezio threw up his arms.

_I am wasted here._

He heard the faint electronic chime as the doors were opened, footsteps, and then Altair's face smoothed of anything but muted happiness, tinged with a little relief. 

"Finally," he practically _barked_ , and then he took a step out of the doorway and threw his arms around who Ezio _assumed_ was his brother. He couldn't see since Altair had swooped over him before he could catch a glimpse. Ezio contented himself with being eventually remembered and stood, gathering the refuse of their food to throw away.

Behind him, he heard laughter; Desmond, assuredly. Ezio had never heard Altair so much as _chuckle_ in the time he'd known him. His friend limited himself to evil smirks and mocking sneers _exclusively._ When Ezio glanced over, he saw the figure hidden by Altair's bulk release the strap of a white duffel bag and return the embrace he'd found himself caught in.

"Why are you acting like this? I'm on time!"

"In what timezone?" Altair asked, belligerent. Finally, Altair released him, but it was only so he could grab Desmond's face in one hand and tilt it from side to side. His other hand plucked at his shirt, ran up his arm. "You have bags under your eyes. Are you sleeping? And you're too thin. Did you eat today? Ezio!" Altair shifted to the side so he could better look at him. "Is there any food left? You usually buy extra."

"Altair!" Desmond laughed, startled as he placed a hand on his brother's arm. "I'm fine, really! Take a deep breath, will you?"

The scene would have been funny under any other circumstance, but the moment Desmond stepped from behind his brother's overbearing, hovering shadow, all Ezio could do was _stare._

Altair had mentioned that Desmond was kind, and a hard worker, and good with people, but what he'd neglected to mention? That Desmond was _hot as fuck._ His skin was smooth and sun-kissed, and the plain t-shirt he wore exposed the jet-black tattoo on his forearm and the mouthwatering tone of his arms. Ezio was willing to bet that beneath his plain clothes he was hiding a similarly fit body and the thought made Ezio _very interested_ in learning exactly _how_ fit. Desmond's eyes were just a shade darker than Altair's, a rich, inviting dark brown, soft and kind, and a match to his hair, just long enough that it began to curl. It looked thick and soft and all Ezio wanted was to sink his fingers into it, to hear what sound Desmond would make when Ezio _tugged_ on it.

But more than anything, Desmond's smile was his most attractive quality, hands down. It was the kind of smile you found yourself returning without even realizing, it was so unabashedly pleased and happy and sincere. Ezio wanted to press his own to those soft, inviting lips.

Hot on the heels of his utter blind-sighted enchantment was indignation; someone had _dared_ to be unfaithful to such an angel?! It defied logic.

Altair frowned and Desmond used the brief pause to look Ezio's way, and his smile was warm and bright and tinged with a wry exasperation that was incredibly endearing.

"Uh, hi! I'm Desmond," he introduced, rubbing the back of his neck. He stuck out his hand, smiling sheepishly. "The brother."

Ezio managed to wipe the awe off his face before anyone could see it, but he still felt like he should avert his eyes from the sight of Desmond, bright as he was. 

Ezio smiled back and strode forward to accept the offered hand. However, instead of shaking, Ezio held Desmond's hand and raised it to his lips where he dropped a gentle, lingering kiss on the back of his knuckles.

The way red bloomed on Desmond's cheeks, as well as the shy surprise that transformed his expression, was _incredibly_ satisfying; Ezio's smile grew.

"It is a _pleasure_ to meet you, Desmond. I am Ezio."

Altair's arm fell like a shackle on his wrist, too tight and with the immovable force of an act of God. He wrenched Ezio's arm away from Desmond's and glared at Ezio in a way that plainly said, _If I were walking down the street and saw your body, I would step on it as I passed by._

"Yes, and Ezio was _just leaving,"_ Altair said tightly, a note of warning in his tone.

Ezio gleefully ignored it, eyes darting to Desmond. 

"I have some time," Ezio assured, taking care to not notice the way Altair's incensed expression deepened. "Altair's well acquainted with my family, I can't miss this opportunity to finally get to meet his."

Altair's hand tightened, enough so that Ezio winced.

_"Ezio—"_ he started, voice cold, but Ezio shot Desmond a mournful look.

"You see how he treats old friends? I keep him company, I feed him so he does not starve at his desk, and this is the thanks I get!" Ezio shook his head, as if at the folly of man.

Desmond was still blushing in a way that was _intensely_ distracting, but a light came to his eyes at Ezio's words.

"Oh, wow, you really do that?" Ezio inclined his head in feigned humble agreement. "Well, thanks!" Desmond said sincerely. "With me being gone, I worry about this guy," and here Desmond set a palm on Altair's arm; Altair glanced at him and some of the ire leaked out of his expression. Desmond smiled at his brother, then turned that beautiful expression Ezio's way. "So it's a relief to hear someone's looking out for him."

Altair let got of Ezio's arm and faced his brother with something like contrition on his features. "Desmond..."

"It's nothing," Ezio assured, shaking out his arm. It felt good to have blood pumping to his fingers again. "He's been a good friend to me, so I've been happy to do it."

That seemed to please both brothers, although Desmond showed it more plainly. Altair crossed his arms, but didn't seem ready to throttle him anymore, at least.

And Ezio couldn't think of a better time to capitalize on Altair's shifted mood. He straightened to his full height, tucked his hands into the pockets of his pants, knowing fully how well he wore this particular suit, how the slate grey color made him appear dashing, just a little dangerous, how the cut emphasized his broad shoulders and was just a _bit_ tight at his biceps, hinting at the muscles beneath. When he faced Desmond directly, smiling, he was gratified to see that becoming blush return.

"You're visiting for a while, yes? Perhaps I could show you around town? Or, better yet, you could come for a visit to my company, I could give you a private tour of my office—"

Altair's hand snatched at the collar of his jacket like the steel clamp of a crane. He yanked Ezio, throwing him off balance with a squawk, and used the momentum to drag him away bodily.

_"Not on my fucking watch,"_ Altair snarled, voice glacial.

Ezio laughed and managed to twist, enough to look over his shoulder and wave at Desmond, who was blushing even redder than before.

"I'll see you soon, Desmond!"

_"NO,_ you _won't."_

Desmond waved back, smile still shy but with humor bright in his eyes. 

"Goodbye, Ezio!" he called. "It was nice meeting you!"

He looked so cute, Ezio felt his heart skip a beat. 

_Yes,_ he decided. _I have found the love of my life._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Story title is from superpowerful, mainly because the vibes suit this fic perfectly lol.
> 
> I have a particular fondness for modern-era-Altair being a genius hacker, so you better believe I'll shoehorn that in whenever possible!!! Now the real question is: Is Desmond _aware_ of the fact that Altair beat up his cheating ex??? 🤔🤔🤔


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope ya'll like shenanigans! ☜╮(´ิ∀´ิ☜╮)

The next day went like this:

Ezio, a good friend and never a man to go back on his word, arrived at his usual time at Altair's office for lunch. He picked up pizza this time and optimistically ordered a third box. To his never-ending satisfaction, Desmond was indeed there, playing an old Gameboy, curled up in the chair opposite Altair's desk. 

Ezio graciously offered Desmond food while Altair glared in the background. Desmond smiled and blushed attractively and thanked Ezio in that earnest, honest way he had, and Ezio— _utterly_ taken by the sight of him—had offered to take Desmond out to dinner that same night. After all, Ezio knew all of the best restaurants and securing a reservation would be no trouble.

Altair had said, "Fuck off, Ezio. It's not happening."

Ezio had said, "Desmond doesn't seem to be complaining."

Visibly grinding his teeth, Altair had returned, _"Desmond's_ too nice to tell you he's not interested in fucking you."

Ezio's smile had widened and he'd shot Desmond—blushing and adamantly ignoring them _both_ as he ate—a wink. "All the better," Ezio had purred. "I much prefer the view from the top."

Desmond had frozen, eyes wide and face crimson. The sight of his beautiful brown eyes, shyly taken-aback with the hint of a flustered smile on the horizon, was abruptly interrupted by Altair when he leapt across the desk and _tackled_ Ezio to the ground.

_"Cazzo!"_

Ezio had more than his fair share of experience when it came to family members trying to protect the virtue of their charges, but Altair was proving to be his most formidable opponent yet. Beyond the fact that Altair had absolutely no qualms _physically_ wresting Ezio away from his baby brother, Ezio's quest to make Desmond his was further complicated by the fact that the two were _never_ apart. It was clear for all that Altair's love manifested in an overbearing way, the feeling was entirely mutual. The undeniable affection that bled into their every interaction reminded Ezio sharply of his own family. 

The problem of getting Desmond alone would have been easily solved by getting his number, but since Altair was _always_ right there, Ezio was attacked before he could even finish asking. 

This went on for the rest of the week, where the only time Ezio could see Desmond was at Altair's office, beneath the watchful gaze of his disapproving brother. Even though he knew how it would end, Ezio felt _compelled_ to make the most of his time and declare his interest to Desmond at the earliest opportunity. And every time, he ended up wrinkling his suit horribly as he and Altair inevitably came to blows. Desmond tended to retreat a safe distance away, calling out pointers to either of them as he watched. The fights typically ended either when one of them managed to get the other into a hold of some sort—largely inconvenient as it meant Ezio had his hands too full to deal with Desmond, or _he_ was unable to move—or Desmond left, off to do whatever he did during his vacation when he wasn't in Altair's pocket.

He always smiled for Ezio and said goodbye to him so sweetly, in a way that gave Ezio hope that he wasn't imagining that Desmond held a genuine interest in him.

Ezio spent the unfairly long weekend plagued by thoughts of Desmond, pining morosely while Federico laughed at him.

"You may have met your match, brother," Federico counseled, shrugging. Federico knew Altair well, had fought by his side more than once on some of their crazier nights out, and was familiar with how viciously cut-throat he could be.

 _"Fratello,"_ Ezio said soberly. "If you saw him, you would understand."

"Is this Desmond truly so beautiful?" Federico asked, amused.

Ezio groaned, falling back into a slump against the floor; he simply could not pine properly on the furniture.

He'd come to his brother's apartment to distract himself from how little progress he was making, but the moment Federico had opened the door, Desmond's name was already spilling from his lips.

"You have no idea." Ezio briefly called upon the memory of Desmond's goodbye on Friday, the first time _he'd_ reached out to Ezio. As he'd crouched by Altair and Ezio's exhausted, prone forms as they panted on the ground, his fingers had brushed Ezio's hair from his sweaty forehead. His touch had been gentle in a way that made Ezio _ache_ and his smile had been so warm. 

"See ya next week, Ezio," he'd said, unabashedly affectionate. "And good luck."

Ezio sighed, completely lovesick and uncaring that his brother was witnessing it all; it wasn't the first time.

He rolled his head to Federico, where he was leaning against the wall divider between the living room and kitchen, arms crossed as he smirked.

"He has a tattoo," Ezio sighed.

"Oh, has my brother fallen for a bad boy?"

Ezio couldn't stop the lecherous smile from stretching his lips. 

"Hopefully, he is a _very_ bad boy."

Federico tossed his head back and laughed.

* * *

Desmond perked from his reclined position on the couch when he heard the lock on the front door click. 

"Welcome back!" he called.

Altair grunted as he let himself in and kicked off his shoes. They struck the wall with dull thuds and a few moments later he sank into the armchair beside Desmond with a huff.

"I hate people," he declared, and his scowl was as black as night. 

Desmond stretched out an arm as best as he could and gave Altair's hand a reassuring pat. "It's all over now," he consoled.

This Saturday was _supposed_ to be their night to hang out, but a work thing had called Altair away. It still impressed Desmond every day that Altair hadn't left his company, his abhorrence for customer service being as severe as it was. If Altair's love for programming were any less, he probably would have.

Some of the tension eased from Altair's face at Desmond's words and he nodded absently, eyes drifting to the TV. He wrinkled his nose at the shallow reality show Desmond had on, but didn't complain. His amber eyes found Desmond's a moment later.

"Have you eaten?"

 _Here we go._ "I had a sandwich an hour ago, Altair."

"Hm." Altair's eyes narrowed. "Doesn't sound filling," he said.

Desmond groaned, smiling ruefully. "I'm _fine."_

Altair rose from his seat and strode into the kitchen. "Well, I'm hungry. I'm going to make something."

Unseen, Desmond rolled his eyes before getting up as well. Somehow, he had a feeling Altair was going to 'accidentally' make too much food.

Still, he'd be lying if he said Altair's actions weren't reassuring, too, especially in light of his shitty breakup. Altair had practically been the only parent he'd ever known and falling back into his doting, loving care after his hell of a semester was just what the doctor ordered.

Sure enough, when Desmond joined Altair in the kitchen, his brother was laying out a large spread of ingredients on the counter—he was making tacos, it looked like, enough to feed a small army.

Altair spared him a glance but said nothing as Desmond hoisted himself on the counter next to him and crossed his legs as he watched his brother cook. 

It was quiet as Altair chopped tomatoes and lettuce, put a pan on the stove, and began to brown the ground beef. Desmond plopped his chin in his palm.

"I missed this," he said.

Altair paused and shot him a glance. He gave Desmond a nudge with his elbow before he resumed stirring the meat.

"Me too," he admitted, and Desmond smiled. "Drop out of school and work for my company," Altair continued blithely.

Desmond chuckled. "Not happening." Desmond's computer savvy-ness started and ended with his phone. "Maybe ask me again next semester."

"Will do."

Desmond loathed to disrupt Altair's content mood, and he knew his question would do just that, but he'd been mulling over it more and more with each day that passed, and since he'd spent _all day_ alone with nothing to distract him, he couldn't deny his curiosity any longer.

"I was wondering..." Altair's eyes flashed to his, curious. "That friend of yours, Ezio?" Immediately Altair scowled. The sight made Desmond's lips quirk up fondly. "Is he...well, what's his deal? Is he for real with all this?"

"Unfortunately, yes." Altair turned his attention to the skillet, though his displeased frown only deepened. "As serious as a man like him can be, anyway. He's an insatiable man-whore who only cares about having fun," Altair said plainly.

 _Yeesh._ Desmond was used to his brother's taciturn, often brutally honest opinions, but this one seemed particularly harsh for a so-called friend.

As if becoming aware of that very fact, Altair grimaced. "Although...he is not _completely_ terrible." It looked like it hurt him to admit even that much; Desmond smothered another grin. "He is a decent man. He's to inherit his father's company, despite not being the eldest. He's proven himself to be resourceful, responsible, and he has a head for business. _But,"_ Altair stressed, pointing his spatula at Desmond, "that does not mean he is good enough for _my_ brother."

Desmond smiled wryly with a shake of his head. "Is _anyone?"_ he teased.

Altair didn't even think about it. "Of course not," he scoffed. His amber eyes cut to Desmond, assessing. "You don't have to put up with him if you don't want to," Altair insisted. "I can tell him to stay away from the office, just say the word."

Altair looked as if he wanted nothing more than for Desmond to take him up on his offer so he could bar Ezio from the _building,_ but Desmond broke eye contact as he considered it. He rubbed at his arm in a transparently self-conscious move.

"...No. No, it's okay," he said quietly. He eyed Altair furtively, feeling stupid, but his brother had been his confidante for as long as he could remember. He doubted this would push him over the edge. "Can I say something kind of pathetic?"

"Always."

Desmond sighed. "Honestly? After everything that happened with Daniel," Altair stiffened, face darkening with renewed anger, "It feels... _good,_ I guess, getting this kind of attention. I don't know," Desmond shrugged, eyes carefully averted. "It's just...nice to be wanted again..."

It was silent for a minute, and then Altair turned off the stove and moved to stand in front of Desmond. He embraced Desmond in a comforting, unshakeable hug that Desmond returned immediately, hating himself for the dull, familiar ache just saying Daniel's name had caused to spread through him, but _so_ grateful he had Atair to make it better.

Altair shifted back just slightly and pressed a kiss to Desmond's forehead.

"Very well," he said quietly. 

* * *

Ezio knew showing up early for lunch would only make his eagerness plainer, but he'd been upfront about his interest in Desmond from the start and saw no reason to pretend otherwise now. Besides, he'd been forced to endure _two entire days_ without so much as a glimpse of Desmond, how could he _not_ see him at his earliest opportunity?

And clearly, Ezio's decision was blessed, because when he opened to door to the office, Desmond was there— _alone._

Ezio wasn't yet noticed. Desmond had dragged a rolling chair to Altair's window and was gazing out of it with a thoughtful look on his face, legs pulled up into the seat. Perhaps refusing to sit normally was a family trait?

The sunlight threw into relief the golden tones of his curly dark hair and the radiance that kissed his skin made him look so soft, a temptation if ever Ezio saw one. In his hand, he idly threaded a pocket knife between his fingers in a smooth glide that spoke of long-practiced skill.

He was a vision of perfection and, for the moment, _all_ Ezio's.

Carefully, Ezio abandoned their lunch on the floor just beside the doorway and approached Desmond on silent feet. When he was close enough, he grasped the top of Desmond's chair and swung Desmond to face him.

Desmond gave a quiet gasp and jerked his head up to look at Ezio with wide eyes.

"Hello, Desmond," Ezio greeted warmly, smiling with satisfaction.

Desmond's cheeks darkened. "...Hey, Ezio." He smiled back, but his eyes darted between Ezio and the doorway. "Um, how was your weekend?"

"Fine, thank you, though lacking without your presence." 

A laugh was startled out of Desmond but he quickly smothered it with a fist over his mouth. The look he shot Ezio was amused and incredulous. Ezio would never tire of that blush.

"How can you say things like that?"

"I only speak from the heart, Desmond."

"Mm-hm, right." Desmond gave the knife in his hand another twirl, but his eyes were fixed on Ezio, searching. Ezio wasn't sure what he was looking for. "Altair's gone—obviously. He had to step out for sec to meet a courier."

Ezio's smiled widened. His other hand mirrored the grip on the back of the chair so that Desmond was firmly caged in.

"Now that _is_ interesting," Ezio mused. "He's left you here, all alone, to my nefarious clutches. How irresponsible of him."

Desmond was having trouble maintaining eye contact now. "He, uh, said he'd be back by lunch." _Because you'd be here,_ he politely didn't say, but they both knew. Desmond shot Ezio an accusing glance. "You're _early."_

"But of course," Ezio purred, and he lowered a hand to Desmond's face, gently tilted his head up with a finger beneath his chin. "I could not keep you waiting."

"That was very considerate of you," Desmond agreed, mirth bright in his eyes, and Ezio delighted in the sight. 

"I'm a very considerate person," Ezio pointed out. "I would be more than happy to give you a... _practical_ demonstration, but your guard dog makes it difficult." Ezio tilted his head slightly, eyes falling to Desmond's lips in a brief moment of distraction. He could not resist lightly brushing his thumb against the slight swell of Desmond's bottom lip, felt his stomach clench at the way Desmond looked up at him, eyes darkening with desire even as he blushed. "Surely there is something you can do about him? Some way I can see you where he will not be there to interrupt?"

When Desmond glanced away, Ezio thought he had won, that _finally,_ Desmond would give him a time and a place where they could see one another without their murderous chaperone.

Then Desmond met his eyes and considered Ezio with a pleasant smile.

"I feel like, if you can't handle my brother, then you're really not worth my time," Desmond posed thoughtfully.

Ezio froze, staring down at Desmond with incredulity blooming in his chest—and no little excitement to see this spark of merciless defiance.

_I truly have found love._

"To think such harsh words fell from these sweet lips," Ezio mused, unable to keep the grin off his face. Desmond was _fun._ "You're hiding a beast behind that pretty face."

"Maybe you should take it as a warning," Desmond offered.

"Oh, it's far too late for that," Ezio argued. The urge to kiss Desmond was growing unbearable. When he looked up at Ezio with those soft brown eyes, posture loose and open, lips just _begging_ to be taken—Ezio's head lowered slowly as he spoke, voice deep and low and just for them. "You've already bewitched me _entirely."_

Desmond's eyes darted Ezio's lips and quickly back up, face flushed.

"Didn't mean to," he murmured quietly.

"I know how you can make it up to me, _Tesoro."_ Ezio, tired of the tease, finally brought their lips together—

And only felt the whisper-soft brush of Desmond's lips before a hand clamped down on Ezio's shoulder.

"Get _the fuck_ off of him," Altair said coldly.

_"Porco puttana!"_

It was Ezio's own fault for leaving his back open and he cursed himself as Altair yanked him away from Desmond and got an arm around his neck.

"You never _fucking_ learn," Altair said angrily. A moment later he grunted as Ezio's elbow caught him in the side. 

The jab made Altair fall to a knee, but unfortunately didn't break his hold and he dragged Ezio with him to stagger on the floor. With a firm forearm wrapped around Ezio's neck, Altair stretched his free arm past Ezio to point accusingly at Desmond.

"You have a knife, _right there_ in your hands! Why didn't you use it?" he demanded.

Desmond sputtered. "Altair, I'm not just going to _stab_ someone!"

Ezio could _hear_ Altair grinding his teeth as he fought to wrench the arm off of him. 

"I gave you that knife for that _exact_ reason."

"Altair—"

Desmond was cut off when Ezio finally gave up on prying Altair's off of him and went for another jab—this time one with some real strength behind it. Altair hunched slightly with a smothered grunt of pain, and though he didn't release his grip, it faltered, which was more than enough. Ezio wrenched Altair's forearm away with both hands in a firm grip and quickly rolled to face him before he could grab him again.

Eyes blazing fury, Altair grabbed Ezio by the front of his button-up and threw a punch—one Ezio stopped with a quick deflection of his own arm. He seized Altair's wrist and twisted, smirking in satisfaction at the way he hissed.

"You're getting predictable, old man," Ezio gloated, and Altair's eyes flashed. 

In an unexpected move, Altair pulled his legs out from under him so that he landed on his ass and he kicked at Ezio's chest with the flat of both his feet—no doubt leaving horrible sneaker marks on Ezio's shirt, which was _infinitely_ ruder than the kick itself.

 _"Oof!"_ Ezio fell back and Altair was quick to capitalize and straddle Ezio to maintain the upper hand. They resorted to grasping one another's hands, arms shaking with force and muscles straining, as they tried to overpower the other.

"I am only _three_ _years_ _older_ than you!" Altair seethed.

Ezio laughed breathlessly, smirk evil. "I forget this is a sensitive subject for you."

"Hey, is it cool if I take the burrito?" Desmond called. At some point, he'd migrated over to their abandoned lunch by the doorway.

"Help yourself," Ezio grunted, meeting Altair's glare with his own. 

"There better be a chimichanga combo in there," Altair demanded.

"How long have I been ordering your lunch?" Ezio asked, affronted. Using every bit of core strength he had, he bucked Altair off of him and quickly rolled to his knees. "Of course there is."

"Good." Altair was also quick to recover and he pushed himself up. "I'm gonna need it after kicking your ass."

"You can try."

They flew at one another again, grappling and cursing, while Desmond brought the bags to Altair's desk and began divvying out the spoils.

"Ezio? Did you get any hot sauce?"

"Check—check the smallest container, _Tesoro,"_ Ezio managed, trying his best to avoid another chokehold with limited success.

"Oh, okay— _aw,_ yes! Thanks!" 

"A-anytime."

"How many times do we have to do this?" Altair asked darkly. 

"Always once more, it would seem," Ezio answered, smirking in a way that he knew only incensed Altair further.

Sitting in his brother's chair, Desmond took a bite of his burrito and sighed happily.

"This is _so good."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm having so much fun writing this story! I hope you guys are having fun reading it, too! See ya next Thursday! (￣▽￣)ゞ


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thursday again, and I'm back with more shenanigans! We're halfway through now!

As soon as Desmond walked through the door, every single dog lost their _minds,_ barking excitedly as they jumped on the walls of their chain-link fences, tails whipping back and forth at Mach speed. It would have been flattering, but Desmond had a feeling it was more to do with the bright red bag of dog food he was hauling inside rather than the sight of him alone.

Desmond laughed as he walked past the long line of partitioned kennels and carefully set the bag down with a brief grunt of effort. 

"You guys always act like you're starving," Desmond said, grabbing the big plastic food scooper where it hung off the wall. He plunged it into the bag of kibble and winced when the sound made the dog's barking somehow _louder._ "All right, _all right,_ I'm coming, _jeez!"_

He'd only been in town for a few weeks, but it hadn't taken long for acute boredom to set in. Hanging out with Altair was fun, but he only saw him for a few hours at the office, just until lunch, and then not again until he came home. As much as Altair assured him it would be fine, he didn't want to disrupt his brother's schedule by hanging around his place of work _all_ day. But the long hours between noon and eight pm dragged without anything to distract himself with, and it wasn't long before he started looking for a side-job, just to keep himself busy.

Part of it was simply his nature; he'd never been one for laying around day after day. The first week of his vacation, he'd indulged _happily,_ the perfect balm to his overworked nerves after finals, but left too long to his own thoughts, his mind began to drift, to linger on things (and exes) best left alone. It was find a job, or go insane.

Luckily, after one of his walks around downtown, he'd noticed the help wanted sign at a shelter. It wasn't paid, but that didn't bother him. Altair wouldn't let him have a job while he was in school, anyways, and this way he got to spend a few hours a day playing with animals—win/win, as far as he was concerned.

Desmond opened one of the kennels, just enough so he and his shovel full of dog food could squeeze through, and he gently fended off his canine attacker as he headed for the bowl. 

"Okay, you drama queen, here's your lunch." The kibble cascaded into the large plastic dog dish with a noisy racket and his current customer, a fat pitbull named Peanut Butter, started eating barely before Desmond pulled his hand away. 

Charmed, Desmond reached out and gave the gray fur an affectionate rub. "You should be embarrassed, acting like this." Peanut Butter raised his head and looked over his shoulder at Desmond with large, soulful black eyes. Desmond gave him a pat and stood. "All right, sorry. Eat up, Tubby."

The shelter had more dogs than any other animal and Desmond made slow yet steady progress around the large, long rows of the room as he fed each dog. It was already a lengthy task, but it was even more time-consuming because he stopped to pet and talk to each dog as he went. Did he have to do that? No. Would he actually die if he didn't? _Absolutely._

He'd gotten nearly half-way through when he heard a familiar sound: a child's voice and the pounding steps of excited, running feet. The dogs all perked, familiar with the sound as well, and sure enough, a kid appeared in the doorway a few seconds later, grinning wide, eyes big with wonder, and face flushed with exertion. He had thick, dark brown hair that he impatiently pushed out of his face and sun-tanned, olive skin. His clothes were a little nicer than the ones kids typically came to shelters in, slacks and dress shoes paired with a cream sweater, but his parents probably didn't care about them getting dirty if they brought him to an animal shelter dressed like that. Maybe it was a school uniform?

"Hey," Desmond greeted with a smile. He waved and finished feeding Georgia—a brown and black greyhound—before he slipped out of the kennel so he could talk to the kid properly. "You here to play with the dogs?"

"Yes!" The kid ran to Desmond's side, but he only looked at Desmond once he'd passed all the dogs between them. He turned bright brown eyes up when he stopped walking. "Can I pet that one?" he asked, pointing to Peanut Butter.

"No problem." The kid cheered. "Did you use hand sanitizer?"

"Oh—um, I forgot!"

Desmond grinned. "We have some over here, come on." Desmond led the way, holding back the urge to laugh at how Petruccio seemed to lock eyes with each dog and only grow visibly more thrilled with each one; he was half expecting the kid to start vibrating. "I'm Desmond, by the way."

"I'm Petruccio!"

"Nice to meet you."

Petruccio proved to be a very good listener, despite his clear over-excitement. He listened attentively when Desmond told him to let Peanut Butter approach him and to not grab the dog's face. When Peanut Butter sniffed Petruccio's little outstretched hand and gave it a lick, Petruccio beamed at Desmond like he'd just won a gold medal.

"Peanut Butter," Petruccio read off the tag hanging off the black collar. "That's a good name," Petruccio affirmed. He stroked the dog's head in long, sweeping pets and Peanut Butter's eyes slipped closed as he enjoyed the attention. Petruccio looked incredibly serious as he watched the dog. "I love you, Peanut Butter," he said, as if he were swearing a solemn vow.

Desmond had to turn away briefly, biting his lip, so he didn't break out into laughter. The kid was way too cute for his own good. What a heartbreaker he'd grow up to be...

"Petruccio!" a male voice called, and the sound made Desmond pause; there was something...almost _familiar..._ about it.

Petruccio only spared a moment to turn his head towards the door to call out, "I'm here!" before he went back to devoting his attention back to Peanut Butter.

There was the sound of footsteps, and then— _Ezio_ appeared in the doorway, eyes alighting on Petruccio long enough for a bit of tension to ease out of his face, before he quickly took notice of Desmond and paused as well, clearly just as taken aback.

But he _definitely_ recovered first and a devious, pleased smile crawled across his mouth. 

"Well, well," Ezio drawled, and as he approached Desmond had the absurd urge to run—not that he _would,_ he wasn't _scared_ of Ezio. Only, he usually _knew_ when he was about to see Ezio. Without Altair around and the promise of a wrestling match on the horizon, it felt strange. "This is a pleasant surprise." Ezio stopped on the opposite side of the cage door and leaned against it casually. His eyes were banked with quiet desire as he gazed down at Desmond. "Hello, Desmond."

"Uh, hey, Ezio." Desmond barely managed not to stutter, but lost the battle against blushing—it seemed to be a side-effect of just knowing Ezio. "What—why are you here?" Because he _knew_ Altair hadn't told him.

They were interrupted by Petruccio, who ran up to Ezio with bright eyes and a brighter smile. "Ezio! This dog's name is _Peanut Butter!"_

Ezio grinned, and he was so handsome that Desmond almost averted his gaze _"This,"_ Ezio said, ruffling Petruccio's hair amidst the kid's surprised, delighted laughter, "little urchin is my brother, who demanded his _very busy_ brother let him pet the nice animals at the shelter before being taken home."

"Oh." It was obvious, in hindsight. His hair was darker, but Petruccio had the same look about him, the same easy smile and friendly disposition—although Ezio had seemed to weaponize his to better his flirting.

Petruccio managed to free himself from his brother's rough-housing and impatiently pushed some of his hair out of his face so he could look up at Desmond. 

"Can I play with the puppies?"

Desmond blinked at him, then made himself shake off his shock. Okay, so Ezio was here; he could deal with that. "Yeah, sure. I still have to feed them, too."

The two shadowed Desmond as he resumed feeding each dog, although each stop took even longer as Petruccio insisted on petting each dog Desmond visited. Not that Desmond blamed him, he only wished Ezio wouldn't _watch_ him like that while he worked...

As they went down the line, Desmond couldn't help but ask if Petruccio was looking to adopt. He regretted it when the kid looked up at him with an expression of petulant sadness.

"I _wish,"_ Petruccio complained. "But my parents said I can't. It's not _fair!"_

"It would be unfair to the _dog, fratello,"_ Ezio said disapprovingly, crossing his arms. His words had the air of being often-repeated. "When would you have time for one, hm? Between your school and homework? After your piano lessons and soccer practice?"

Petruccio stuck his tongue out.

"Well, just coming to play with them helps," Desmond assured, smiling when Petrucico glanced his way. He gave the current dog they were visiting—an old, sleepy dalmatian—a tummy rub. "Helps keep their spirits up until they find a new home."

That seemed to cheer Petruccio up, but even if Desmond hadn't, their final stop ensured it—the last, and largest kennel, littered with nearly a _dozen_ labrador puppies. Petruccio gasped from the sight of them, tiny and excited and falling over with surprised yelps when they heard the food being shoveled out of the bag. Eager and clumsy, they crashed into each other in their haste to reach the door first.

They trailed after Desmond, barking, tails waving madly, as he filled the three smaller bowls lined up against the wall. The puppies were practically eating the food out of the scooper and the sound of frantic, happy crunching filled the air.

"Oh my god!" Petruccio crouched by the nearest bowl, where six puppies had all dunked their heads inside, and carefully stroked the tiny bodies. _"They're so cute!"_ Petruccio said in a screaming sort of whisper, and Desmond laughed.

Desmond couldn't resist a few pets of his own, but it didn't take them long to finish their meal and get interested in the new person in their midst. Petruccio ended up sitting right where he was, giggling non-stop as puppies treated him like a jungle gym, scrambling into his lap for pets, jumping on their hind legs to better paw at him in a bid to get higher, and generally licking every square inch of skin they could reach.

They looked like something out of a commercial and Desmond drifted back to the doorway to watch with an affectionate smile. Ezio, too, had a soft smile on his face, an expression Desmond had never seen before on his face and one he found he wasn't immune to. 

Ezio turned his attention to Desmond when he leaned against the fence beside him, eyes shining with interest.

"So this is where you disappear to after lunch," Ezio mused.

Desmond shrugged. "Sometimes."

"This work suits you," Ezio said. "You seem happy here."

Desmond smiled. "I am," he agreed. "I was getting bored just hanging around my brother's apartment all the time and started volunteering last week. Plus," he added, looking back at Petruccio and the puppy pile, "I really love animals. Wanted one as a kid, but we weren't allowed. And now, with school," he shrugged again. "Too busy. Not sure I could afford one, either," he mused. Altair would probably try to cover Desmond's expenses until he _died,_ but Desmond didn't want to rely on him like that forever; once he was out of school, he was determined to provide for himself.

"After you've decided to spend your life with me, I'll cover any expense for whatever animal you wish," Ezio promised with a teasing smile.

Desmond laughed. "Aren't you getting a little ahead of yourself, there?"

Ezio placed a hand on his chest. "I prefer to think of it as being optimistic."

Desmond shook his head, still smiling. "Right."

It was funny, when Desmond had come to visit his brother, he'd only been focused on catching up on lost time and distracting himself from Daniel. He hadn't even planned on going out during his summer break, not yet ready to throw himself back out there, but Ezio was making him forget all about that resolution. 

And it was flattering, too, the way Ezio lavished his attention on Desmond. He'd prodded Altair for more information and knew _exactly_ how much of an eligible bachelor Ezio was, and having someone with so many advantages pursuing him, as if he were _actually_ worth the effort of dealing with Altair—yeah, he wasn't immune to _that,_ either.

Petruccio and Ezio's visit wasn't long. After a while, Ezio glanced at his phone and called Petruccio's name.

"We have to leave, Petruccio, your lessons start soon."

"But _Eziooooooooooo,"_ Petruccio whined, still with a lapful of energetic puppies. "Can't we stay a _little_ longer? _Please?"_

"I've already let you stay longer than I should," Ezio said sternly. "It's time to go."

Petruccio sighed like the weight of the world had settled on his small shoulders. _"Fine."_

Petruccio insisted on saying goodbye to each individual puppy and his steps were slow and reluctant as he left. Desmond stepped forward to keep the puppies from escaping as Petruccio left the kennel and he reminded Petruccio to clean his hands one last time as he walked them out.

Privately, Desmond was disappointed, too. Between the two of them, Desmond had certainly been entertained, and seeing Ezio with his family was charming in a new way Desmond hadn't seen before.

As he took the final turn down the hallway that led to the front entrance, answering Petruccio's rapid-fire questions about what he did at the shelter, one of the rooms they passed seemed to catch Ezio's eyes because he slowed as he peered in.

"Petruccio," he called, jerking his thumb towards the cracked door. Desmond and Petruccio paused and looked back at Ezio curiously. "Birds," Ezio simply said.

Petruccio gasped with enough force to suck half of the oxygen out of the _building._ He took off like a shot and rushed into the room. From the hallway, they could hear his yell, "They have a _parrot!!"_

Startled, Desmond went to follow him—when a warm hand clamped around his wrist and _tugged_ him back.

It wasn't a harsh pull, but it still upset Desmond's balance enough that he reached out to catch himself—only to find his hand coming to rest Ezio's chest, suddenly _much_ closer than before.

Desmond felt his heart leap to his throat in the split-second he saw Ezio's smirk, his dark, smoldering eyes just a breath away, and then he was kissing Desmond, deep and hot and with what felt like every intention of stealing his breath away. 

Desmond gasped, a tiny, short thing, to feel Ezio's hands suddenly all over him, jerking him closer by a big, heavy hand at his hip, trailing up his back to his neck where he slipped his fingers into the curly hair at the nape of Desmond's neck to tug so that Desmond's head tilted up _just_ so and he could slip his tongue past the seam of Desmond's lips to better taste him.

He didn't stand a chance. The thought to push Ezio, to protest, didn't even _come,_ too swiftly swept up in the sudden force of Ezio's desire. He kissed Desmond with all of the unrestrained passion he'd glimpsed dozens of time before in Altair's office, the same way he'd looked when Altair had pulled him away before they could kiss, the dark look in his eyes seeming to promise, _Soon._ Desmond could appreciate a man who knew what he wanted.

It was stupid, and if he got caught he'd _definitely_ get fired, but Ezio was entirely too skilled and Desmond succumbed to his touch easily, unable to resist since he'd wanted this since practically the moment he'd first _seen_ Ezio, handsome and sleek in his designer suit with his devilish smile and playful, kind eyes.

Desmond's arms slipped around Ezio's shoulders, luxuriating in the brush of Ezio's stubble against his lips, and Ezio made a low noise of pleasure, twisted so he could _shove_ Desmond against the wall and better smother Desmond with the unbridled strength of his lust. 

_Fuck._ Ezio was _too_ good at this.

The kiss couldn't have lasted for longer than a minute or two, but Desmond still found himself blinking rapidly and trying to re-orient himself with the concept of time again when Ezio broke the kiss and pulled back just enough so their eyes could meet.

 _"Desmond,"_ he said in a rough murmur that felt like a caress down Desmond's spine, "May I have your phone number?"

Panting, Desmond blinked, then nodded. "Y-yeah."

A small smile curled Ezio's lips. He shifted slightly, then produced a pen and held it up between them. 

Face warm, Desmond plucked it out of his grip and, after a hesitant glance, took Ezio's hand in his. Ezio's hand was slightly larger than his, but for a rich boy, it was surprisingly calloused. It was also very, very warm. Desmond scrawled his number across that waiting palm, trying his best to keep his hand from shaking, distracted as he was by the warm press of Ezio's body against so much of his, of the way he just _watched_ Desmond, and gave the pen back when he was done.

" _Bene."_

"Ezio! Ezio!" Petruccio called from inside the room. "The parrot said my _name!_ Come look!"

 _"Un attimo,"_ Ezio called back. He tucked the pen away and when he leaned close again, Desmond met him halfway. 

"We should stop," Desmond murmured after another long moment, and Ezio hummed against his lips. A few more seconds stretched, and they broke apart. "Yeah. You—you gotta go, or I won't stop."

Ezio chuckled, stole one final, quick kiss, then released Desmond in reluctant inches. Ezio smiled at him before taking the half step to the room Petruccio had disappeared into and said something to him in Italian with an urgent snap of his fingers. "We are officially late, _fratello."_

"Oh, okay!" Desmond had just enough time to push off the wall and straighten his shirt before Petruccio stepped out. He grinned at Desmond as he took Ezio's hand and waved. "Thank you, Mr. Desmond."

"Y-you're welcome," Desmond said, smiling back. He kept his eyes down, unable to speak to Petruccio _and_ see whatever expression Ezio had on his face right now. "Come back anytime."

"Okay!"

"Goodbye, Desmond," Ezio said, and he sent Desmond a wink as he stepped away.

Blushing and smiling, Desmond waved back with a shake of his head, the urge to laugh at this entire ridiculous situation nearly overcoming him. The only thing that made him refrain was the fresh memory of Ezio's kiss, his hot, insistent hands; nothing about _that_ had felt like a joke.

"Bye," he murmured.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me: writes a fic all about Desmond and Ezio flirting with each other.  
> also Me, triggered every time I remember canon: okay but what if there were a scene where Petruccio was in the middle of a puppy pile???
> 
> If you love screaming about AC boys, come join the Discord! @[Infamous Protocreed_Dogs](https://discord.gg/k72uA29zb3)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AO3 really is making me learn HTML against my will, huh? XD Which is part of the reason this chapter's being posted so late, since I had to _learn_ how to do this!
> 
> That being said! I formatted it so texts should still be discernible if you have the creator's style turned off, but yeah. I'm definitely still learning! OTL

Desmond's summer continued much like it had started: with Ezio flirting with him every chance he got, although that stretched outside of Altair's office hours now that he had Desmond's number. And, even rarer now that Altair suspected Ezio might show up early, Ezio managed to sneak a few more kisses, too. 

Although, not as many as either of them would have liked. Desmond had thought he'd be seeing a lot more of Petruccio and Ezio at the shelter, but Ezio hadn't been exaggerating when he'd said Petruccio had a packed schedule. And Ezio himself _did_ have to work for a living as well, and with him training to take over for his father, Desmond was starting to realize he was lucky Ezio managed to spare his lunch hour to visit as he had.

It really seemed like all the odds were against them, and part of Desmond felt for Ezio, really. It wasn't as if _he_ didn't want a little alone time with Ezio, too, but he couldn't deny how much fun he was getting out of the situation, not to mention the plain fact that taking things slow—well, it held a certain appeal after being cheated on.

Not that Desmond dwelled too much on _that_ these days. Not with Ezio flooding his phone at all hours, funny and surprisingly insightful and ridiculously sweet, sweeter than any guy Desmond had talked to before. He'd barely used his phone before, mostly just to keep in contact with his brother, but now it practically felt like an extension of his _body,_ he talked to Ezio so often. Altair always scowled when he caught Desmond smiling softly down at his phone, knowing fully well who was texting him, but he never said anything. It probably helped that he and Ezio still got into wrestling matched several times a week. It gave him a chance to vent his frustration, at least. 

Part of Desmond wondered which would break first: Altair's protective instincts or Ezio's determination? He'd never bet against his brother, but Ezio hadn't faltered once, and it had been _weeks_ without much more than a few heavy make-out sessions when he could steal them. He'd asked Desmond out a few times, but Desmond always made an excuse, feeling guilty as hell but unable to deny the rush of blind, anxious fear that would seize him at the thought. The way things were right now were fine; he wasn't ready for that to change.

It had turned into a bit of a waiting game for him. As stubborn as Ezio seemed, everyone had their breaking point, right? He'd reach it any day now, Desmond was sure, and in the meantime, he got to make a few good memories. They'd be going their separate ways soon anyway, so why not have a little innocent fun before he had to go back to campus?

💦🍆Ezio🍆💦  
  
**Ezio:** tesoro, will you take pity on this poor bereft man?  
  


Desmond smiled down at the text. He'd just finished showering after a run and somehow hadn't been surprised to see he had a message waiting on him from Ezio.

💦🍆Ezio🍆💦  
  
**Desmond:** whats up?  
  
**Ezio:** I've been given an inhuman amount of work and my slave-driver father refuses to allow me to leave the office just because he thinks I will not return  
  
  


Desmond's smile grew and he leaned against the wall in the hallway as he replied.

💦🍆Ezio🍆💦  
  
**Desmond:** WOULD you?  
  
**Ezio:** of course I would!  
  
**Ezio:** what harm is there in a quick trip to the nearest cafe?  
  
**Ezio:** he's so strict, even though I've only forgotten to come back to work a measly five times smh  


****

****

That made Desmond laugh.

💦🍆Ezio🍆💦  
  
**Desmond:** so you want me to make a coffee run for you?  
  
**Ezio:** PLEASE tesoro  
  
**Ezio:** i would happily pay you back, in whatever way you wish ;)  
  
**Desmond:** don't you have secretaries or interns for that?  
  
**Ezio:** but it would taste so much sweeter coming from you tesoro  
  


Desmond shook his head, smiling, and paused long enough to glance around the apartment. Well...it wasn't like he was doing anything, and Altair wouldn't be home until tonight.

💦🍆Ezio🍆💦  
  
**Desmond:** ok  
  
**Desmond:** what do you want?  
  
**Ezio:** you are an angel ❤️❤️❤️  
  


* * *

"Oh, wow," Desmond mumbled, staring up at Ezio's office. He'd known, logically, that Ezio was a Big Deal, but there was knowing, and then there was _knowing._ He hadn't been surprised when the address Ezio had given him had taken him to the heart of downtown, but the gleaming high-rise still took him aback, certainly one of the grander buildings on the street. 

_Auditore Bancorp._

Standing outside the building, coffees in hand, Desmond tried not to feel too out of place, reminded himself that he'd been invited here and was, in fact, _supposed_ to be here, no matter what anyone nearby might think.

Following Ezio's instructions, he shot him a text that he'd arrived and bee-lined past the front desk and straight to the elevators tucked to the side. His street clothes got a few side-eyes when he sidled into the packed elevator, but thankfully no one demanded he pull out his I.D. or anything. Still, he felt like the glances started to linger the longer he rode the elevator up and he didn't get off.

_Just had to be on the highest floor, didn't it?_

Finally, after reaching the _twentieth_ floor, Desmond was more than happy to step out and he breathed a sigh of relief, alone at last. Altair's own company was impressive, but he ran it nearly single-handedly. Desmond wasn't used to all the suits and polished floors and the harried air of frazzled workers barking into their phones.

The top floor was much quieter, with nothing to see but dark carpeted floors and a maze of hallways sprinkled with varnished oak doors that housed empty conference rooms or offices. Walking slowly, carefully balancing one cup in the crook of his arm so he had a hand free to scroll, Desmond consulted his phone again, eyes darting between it and the gleaming metal plates by each door as he searched for Ezio's number.

He was only a few doors away when someone suddenly slid a hand around his waist.

Desmond jumped slightly, eyes wide, and turned his head just in time to be kissed firmly on the mouth. The rough brush of stubble, as well as the smile he could feel being pressed to his lips, was familiar, however, and after a brief mental adjustment to finding himself under attack, Desmond returned the kiss with a smile of his own.

"Hello, Desmond," Ezio greeted him happily, barely pulling away to speak. "Thank you for coming."

Desmond hated how charming he was, how it was impossible not to smile in Ezio's presence. 

"You're welcome." He held up one of the coffees. "Here's your order, sir," he said teasingly.

Ezio's brows went up as he plucked the drink from Desmond's grasp. "Sir?" he echoed, He pried the lid off the cup to give it an appreciative sniff, eyes gleaming wickedly as he watched Desmond. "I like the sound of that..."

Desmond elbowed him and laughed when Ezio made an indignant squawking noise, cradling his coffee defensively. "Don't get used to it."

Ezio smiled wide and straightened, placed a hand at the small of Desmond's back as he guided him to his office. "I can be very persuasive."

Desmond couldn't understand why Ezio would _ever_ want to leave his office. Between the view of downtown from the wall that was solely windows and the warm, tasteful furniture that made it feel peaceful rather than austere—well, it wasn't a cubicle, that was for sure.

"Impressed?" Ezio asked, shutting the door behind them as Desmond strolled further inside.

Desmond immediately gravitated to the large, varnished desk and plopped down on the tufted leather rolling chair. "This is my favorite thing in here," Desmond declared, reclining in the chair experimentally. It felt like being rocked by a _cloud._

 _How does Ezio even bring himself to get back out of this thing?_ It spoke to a will-power Desmond would never comprehend.

Amused, Ezio perched on top of the desk just beside Desmond and leisurely sipped at his coffee as he watched Desmond treat his office like his own personal playground.

"You look good there," Ezio said approvingly. Desmond shot him a wry look.

"You need your eyes checked," Desmond disagreed. "This kinda thing really isn't my scene."

Ezio made a low noise of denial. "With your looks? I can not imagine a place on this earth you would not be suited to."

 _Where does he come up with this stuff?_ What made it worse was that Desmond still blushed, every single time. 

Desmond deflected by taking a sip of his own coffee and waved Ezio off. "Dude," he said, grinning, "You already got the goods, cut that out."

"Absolutely not," Ezio said straightaway. "It is against my very nature to not appreciate beauty when it is placed before me."

"Oh my god." Desmond rested an elbow on the desk, dropped his chin into his palm and looked up at Ezio with an eye roll. He couldn't contain his blush. "Just kiss me already."

Ezio leaned down and obliged happily, and after a few sweet kisses, they drank their coffees and talked about Ezio's work, what Desmond had done for the day, their plans for the week—small talk, really, but it never felt boring. When the minutes stretched and Ezio made no move to shoo Desmond away, he tried to make his own excuses, but Ezio assured him he had an hour to spend however he chose and could think of nothing better than spending it with Desmond; that earned him a second eye roll and a kiss, which Ezio accepted with all the satisfaction of a king on his throne.

Talk of Fall approaching made Desmond sigh forlornly. "I can't believe break's almost over," he whined, draping himself across the desk. He rested his head face down on the wood as he groaned. "I'm not ready for another semester."

Ezio gave him a consoling pat on the arm. "I admit, I'm not looking forward to your return, either."

That made Desmond glance up at him, grimacing. "Yeah...but I've had a lot of fun these past few weeks, Ezio." His smile was entirely genuine when he continued, "Hanging out with you and talking and stuff—just, thanks."

Ezio stared at Desmond, a slight furrow to his brow. "You speak as if this is goodbye."

"Uh," Desmond quickly looked away, feeling awkward. "I mean, not _yet,_ but, I mean, it will be. Soon."

Ezio didn't stop staring. "Why would you returning to school change anything?"

Desmond found himself staring back, feeling increasingly like he and Ezio were speaking different languages. "Because...I'm leaving? And you'll be here? Running a company?" Desmond didn't understand where the confusion was coming from. This whole thing seemed pretty straight-forward...

Ezio's drained coffee cup, until this moment being twirled idly in his never-still hands, was set aside with a hollow thump on the desk as Ezio leaned slightly in Desmond's space, eyes hard and a frown turning down his lips.

"You believe I would simply—what? Forget you?"

Based on Ezio's body language, he knew the answer he was going to say would be wrong, but it was the only thing that made _sense._

"...Yes...?"

Ezio's face hardened into an expression of determination that Desmond was used to seeing when he wanted to kiss Desmond but an Altair-shaped obstacle stood in his way. In this context, it was more than a little alarming.

But as ominous as that expression was, it wasn't enough to prepare Desmond when Ezio suddenly _surged_ forward and kissed him. It was startling, how Ezio could go from utterly still to this tempest of fierce passion and demanding lust and Desmond found himself instantly swept beneath the wave. 

"E-Ezio—"

A firm grip at the nape of his neck kept Desmond in place beneath the assault. He felt more than saw Ezio move, heard the way he swept aside the few items atop the desk—some papers, a folder, a pen holder—and seized Desmond around the waist. In a move of almost insulting ease, Ezio lifted Desmond out of the chair and sat him in the desk in the time it took Desmond to gasp.

"E—"

Ezio was there before he could draw breath, pushed his way between Desmond's legs so he could cradle his face close and claim his lips in another endless, _burning_ kiss. 

_F-Fuck._ When Ezio licked past his lips, ran his tongue against Desmond's, he caved into the moment, twitching with a gasp of arousal. His hands came up to rest on Ezio's forearms and he kissed back as much as he could with Ezio so _clearly_ intent on dominating it. 

He'd thought that by accepting it, Ezio would calm down, thought maybe he'd get some _answers_ , but if anything, it seemed to only whip Ezio's passionate mood into a frenzy. His arms came around Desmond's waist where he jerked him close, hip to hip so that he was balanced precariously on the edge, and he pushed Desmond down so that he was lying across the desk and had no choice but to wrap his legs around Ezio's waist just to get his bearings.

"Oh, _shit—"_

Ezio's hot palms slid under Desmond's arms, ran up them to Desmond's wrists where he held them pinned to the desk. He broke the kiss only so he could skim his lips over Desmond's jaw on his journey to his neck, where he gave it one long, languid lick before he sank his teeth into the skin there with a bite harsh enough Desmond cried out, loud and transparently turned on. 

The sudden, overwhelming attention had Desmond flushing redder than ever before, bewildered and half-hard and barely able to tell up from down. 

Once it felt like Ezio had mauled every square _inch_ of his neck, he finally returned to Desmond's lips, where each kiss was only marginally less frantic but no less breath-taking just from the sheer _thoroughness_ with which Ezio touched him. The kisses grew longer as Ezio pressed some nameless emotion into Desmond's skin and tried to breathe it straight into Desmond's lungs. He switched his grip so that he could slide a hand to Desmond's waist to chase his shirt further up where he could reach naked skin the easiest. He traced the line of Desmond's abs possessively and broke the kiss what felt like an eternity later when his hand strayed further up and his fingernails scraped over a nipple; the needy, near-tortured sound he made would have been more embarrassing if he'd had enough brainpower to dwell on it.

Ezio withdrew from Desmond's lips with a harsh exhale, panting, and Desmond stared up at him with wide eyes, taking in the flush to Ezio's skin, the slight part to his lips as he panted, the fierce glare in his dark eyes as he held Desmond in his grasp.

"I am _very_ serious about you, Desmond," he said, voice rough and firm. "I always have been, from the very start."

Blindsided and still trying to catch his breath, Desmond barely managed to say, "O-oh..."

While he didn't think Ezio was the type of person to use someone, he'd thought...well, he'd thought they'd _both_ understood that this flirtation they'd started was just something to pass the time. Why would someone with all of Ezio's resources be content with _Desmond,_ the _college student?_ He'd never even let himself believe otherwise, so he was having a hard time grappling with the fact that he was apparently very, very wrong.

But this close, it was impossible to miss the fact that Ezio was genuinely upset, maybe even _hurt_ by Desmond's assumption, and Desmond scrambled to make that expression go away.

"Ezio, I—" He looked away, bit as his lip as he tried to get ahold of his emotions, the shock and arousal and the stunned realization that he was _wanted._ He tentatively reached out, cupped Ezio's face and stroked his thumbs lightly against the rough brush of stubble there. "I'm sorry, Ezio. I didn't...I just didn't think..."

Desmond couldn't read Ezio's expression, something almost wary about him as he searched Desmond's face. After a moment, he sagged, pressed his forehead to Desmond's like he was suddenly exhausted.

"Why _else_ would I spend all this time fighting your brother? Making these weak excuses to get you alone? Why else if not because I want to be with you, _tesoro?"_

A lump in his throat kept Desmond from responding. When Ezio met his eyes again, he glanced away with a tiny shrug.

"Desmond..." Ezio pressed a kiss to his forehead. His eyes were warm and patient. "If you'll have me, I would very much like to be your boyfriend."

So many denials sprung to Desmond's lips, just by habit _._ It felt wrong to encourage Ezio to waste his time on someone so far below him, but—

With Ezio looking at him like that, it was hard to feel like that worthless person his break up had almost convinced him he was. Besides, Ezio wasn't stupid; Desmond wasn't a great actor. If Ezio could go through what he had these last few weeks and still think Desmond was worth it all, who was he to argue?

Slowly, a small, shy smile grew on Desmond's face. Ezio stilled to see it and something like hope alighted on his handsome features.

"I...yeah. Okay. I'd—I'd like that," Desmond said.

Ezio _beamed,_ so far removed from his usual smirks and grins of triumph, and he was so incredibly attractive in that moment of happiness Desmond could do nothing other than kiss him.

It started out nice and soothing, just the wonderful, reassuring hold that came from taking a plunge and finding yourself caught, but it wasn't long before the same spark of heat began to rekindle and the happy pecks became probing strokes of the tongue and languid, smoldering make-outs. At one point, Ezio rocked his hips, just slightly as he pressed closer, and the motion made them both groan.

Ezio pulled back, eyes blown with desire as they seemed to memorize the sight of Desmond spread across his desk.

"We should stop," Ezio said, the words dripping with reluctance. "I am very close to losing control, _tesoro._ And I'd at least to take you out on a proper date before we go further."

"I'm not complaining," Desmond said straightaway, running his hands up Ezio's chest. Riding the high of finding himself in possession of the world's most perfect boyfriend, he started popping open the buttons of his shirt—but only got the first two before Ezio's hand closed over his and stopped him.

"Desmond—"

"You've been breaking every rule since the day you met me," Desmond said impatiently, arching a brow. "Why should this be any different?"

Ezio blinked down at him. Indecision warred, crystal clear, on his face. "You...make a compelling point, _tesoro._ But—"

"Unless," and yeah, Desmond was a shit actor, but he wasn't aiming for the academy awards here. He looked down, let his hands slide back down Ezio's chest. "You don't _want_ me—"

Ezio was kissing him before Desmond could finish and Desmond laughed into it, sliding his arms around those broad shoulders.

"You asked for it, Desmond," Ezio warned, smirking as his hands slid back up his shirt. Desmond shivered.

"Yeah," Desmond agreed. He looked up at his boyfriend and smiled. "I did."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If ya'll wanna talk/hang/scream into the void about fictional assassins with the madmen who prompted this fic, head on over to the Discord! @[Infamous Protocreed_Dogs](https://discord.gg/k72uA29zb3)


	5. Chapter 5

"Are you ready?"

"Yes, _tesoro."_

"Are you sure?"

"Of course."

"Okay. All right. I mean, he probably won't _kill_ you—but he might try, so don't let your guard down!"

Desmond looked so earnest, Ezio couldn't hold back his laugh. When Desmond just glowered at him, Ezio stepped close and pressed a kiss to his forehead. 

"It will be _fine,_ _tesoro._ Your brother won't be happy, but he's no murderer."

"As far as _you_ know," Desmond grumbled, stepping through the door Ezio held open for him. "You've been fighting my brother for weeks now, why am _I_ the only one who's taking this seriously?"

Ezio smiled and folded his hands behind his head in a lazy stretch. "I'm not afraid of Altair."

"It was really nice knowing you," Desmond mused thoughtfully, though he flinched with a laugh when Ezio elbowed him.

"Have faith, Desmond _._ Have faith."

Desmond had wanted a little more time before they announced anything, but Ezio was offended by the very concept. Not being able to show Desmond off to anyone he pleased—it didn't bear thinking about. They had nothing to be ashamed of, and if he wanted to introduce Desmond to his own family, they had to conquer the obstacle that Altair created first.

Besides, Ezio hadn't proven himself time and time again just to throw in the towel the moment Desmond finally gave them a chance. Altair would simply have to accept the fact that Ezio was here to stay, simple as that.

Desmond opened the door to Altair's office tentatively. "Hey, Altair," he started, poking his head in with a sheepish smile.

"What did you do." Altair's voice was flat, tone veering towards suspicious. 

"Nothing!" Desmond sagged, then finally opened the door wide so both he and Ezio could come in.

The moment Ezio came into view, Altair's expression hardened. He immediately eyed the scant distance between the two of them and the challenge there made Ezio straighten, already anticipating the fight, even though Desmond had stressed that he wasn't to fight this time around. 

Desmond glanced between them and seemed at a loss for a moment. "So, uh." he glanced back at Ezio. Ezio smiled, encouraging, and Desmond's shoulders fell a little at the sight as he returned the smile. 

He gave up on words and simply reached out for Ezio's hand. He didn't look away and Ezio found himself similarly caught, taken by the warm blush on Desmond's face and the warmth of his brown eyes. 

"We're..." Desmond finally tore his gaze away to look at his brother, who was frowning mightily at his desk, arms crossed, looking like a man carved from stone. Still, Desmond didn't falter. "We're together now. Okay?" Desmond tacked that on at the end, like he could help it.

Ezio just looked back at Altair with a raised brow. If Altair had a problem with it, he had no problem fighting again. 

Altair glared at both of them for a long, tense moment. Then he stood. He approached Ezio, eyes like murder, and Ezio stiffened, ready for any blow.

Altair stopped just within reaching distance and his piercing hazel eyes searched Ezio's face like he was truly seeing it for the first time and was deciding once and for all if he wanted to punch it. 

Suddenly, Altair stabbed a finger— _hard—_ into Ezio's chest.

"If you so much as _breathe_ wrong in his direction, there will be no place you can hide that I will not find you, no soul on this earth that will ever find your beaten, broken body. You hurt him, you _die,"_ he stressed, poking Ezio again with enough force he winced.

It was a little insulting that Altair felt the need to threaten him in the first place, but Ezio also understood that this was just Altair's way. Murderous threats and promises of vengeance were how he showed affection, and if he truly objected, Ezio would never have gotten this far.

"You have my word," Ezio said, serious. He held Altair's eyes, knowing he couldn't falter even slightly if he wanted Altair's approval. "I will cherish him."

"Oh my god," Desmond muttered, sounding extremely embarrassed. He was ignored as Ezio and Altair stared at one another.

After a small eternity of glaring, Altair finally glanced to Desmond, expression softening minutely, though his tone dripped with reluctant approval.

"You could do worse, I _guess."_

Desmond beamed. "Thanks, Altair."

Altair sighed. It seemed even he wasn't immune to Desmond's smile, pure and happy and infectiously pleased. He reached out and lightly ruffled Desmond's hair, a smile of his own twitching to life on his lips when Desmond sputtered and tried to bat his hand away.

"You'll have your hands full with this one," Altair warned, glancing back at Ezio. For the first time in weeks, there was a spark of playfulness in his gaze, a sight Ezio greeted with relief. He'd been serious about his pursuit of Desmond, but it was a comfort to know he hadn't lost a friendship over it.

Desmond ran a hand through his hair and smiled at Ezio. "He's worth it," Desmond said, teasing, and he was so handsome it was physically _painful_ to stop himself from kissing Desmond then and there. After all, he'd only just gotten Altair's blessing, he didn't want to push him so soon. 

Still, Ezio couldn't resist a tease of his own. "I'm _wounded,_ Altair, truly. Have we not been friends these past few years? How quickly you forget those closest to you," Ezio said, shaking his head. Altair just rolled his eyes and glanced away, utterly unrepentant. The sight made Ezio goad him even further, saying, "You would not be _nearly_ this unpleasant if you relieved your...stress...every once in a while." 

Altair shot him a warning look. Ezio ignored it.

 _"Amore_ would do you wonders," Ezio continued, warming up to the idea. "I've seen the way you look at that handsome courier—"

Altair stiffened, eyes going wide.

"—The one who delivers your components, yes! What was his name?" Ezio snapped his fingers. "Alsan? Alseev? Al-Sayf!" Ezio remembered, dropping his fist into his palm. "I could put in a good for you—"

That was all Ezio could say before Altair's weight _slammed_ into his chest. They fell to the hard floor in a painful tangle of limbs and elbows and knees, both of them cursing all the while. 

"This—this is _exactly_ what I was talking about!" Ezio yelled, grappling with Altair, trying to protective his jugular. _Merda,_ Altair was in a vicious mood today!

"You are so. _Incredibly._ Annoying," Altair seethed.

Above them, a safe distance away, Desmond pulled out his phone and alternated between taking pictures and recording them as they rolled around Altair's office.

"This will get me through finals," he said, smiling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We've reached the end!!! Thank you to everyone who's commented on this fic, I really appreciated it and I hope to see you all again when I start posting my other fics! I've got lots of plans for these two lol


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